


Each Path a Red Thread

by briaeveridian



Series: A Mythology We Weave [7]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Emotional Baggage, F/M, HEA, Rey POV, Soft Ben Solo, greek gods are dicks, i'm just gonna leave it vague like they left rey's parents in canon, if you're wondering who the queen is, mythology subversion, playing fast and loose with this already fast and loose myth, some violence, where do i get these ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briaeveridian/pseuds/briaeveridian
Summary: As the adopted daughter of the King and Queen of Knossos, Rey lives a life of privilege and comfort. Yet she loathes palace life and its gilded bars. The deep recesses that harbor shadows call to her, as does the Minotaur.He was banished to the Labyrinth long ago, displaced from existence because of his monstrous temperament and form. Each night his roars split the air, a reminder that he continues to haunt the heart of their city.He haunts Rey more than the rest. She yearns to know his power, craves his strength. After years of consideration, she finally formulates a plan. And the princess has little regard for consequences.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: A Mythology We Weave [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918027
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47





	1. ~ prelude ~

The Labyrinth resides at the heart of Crete, a serpent coiled and threatening. It’s meant to represent the cleverness of man, how he skillfully outwits nature and the gods to persevere and conquer. In actuality, it exposes how we design our own mazes, craft our own eventual collective demise.

Though known acknowledge it, this elaborate structure achieves another goal. It readily indulges the human tendency to turn the _other_ into a foe, something not worth understanding. Something to cast aside, eliminate, _fear._ The labyrinth is a condemnation and a punishment most severe.

Within its walls the Minotaur is confined for no crime he committed; he was simply born. The result of others’ folly and selfishness, he now stalks empty corridors, his thoughts their own tangle of darkness. During his imprisonment, he has come upon the poor humans thrown inside and he has consumed them with a bitter tongue. No other sustenance crosses into his mottled, corrupted form. Nothing else is permitted.

This beast was left to suffer by his creators. Yet he has not let them forget him. With white-knuckle determination, he has held onto hope that remains lucent and remote like starlight. But even stars fade when clouds scuttle forth, leaving blurred skies and chilled air. So too shall the Minotaur begin loosening his grip, allowing himself to finally give in to the silence and sorrow.


	2. Prisoners Alike are We

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising arrival forces Rey to begin executing her plan earlier than expected.

At first glance, the island of Crete holds beauty beyond measure. Bounded by clear mazarine waters and textured with cragged hills suitable for farming, the land itself offers a life of ease for its inhabitants. However, the island holds a different reality, another layer concealed under the glimmering outer shell. 

Within the central part of the island’s city exists a complicated structure built to contain a monster. This monster, they say, was born evil. To the others, he is worthy only of fear and disgust. But few people consider that monsters take different shapes. And what one may consider evil, another may consider righteous. 

Rey is far more discerning than most.

The Minotaur’s growl has a tendency to burst from the labyrinth at unexpected moments; during a ceremony, to interrupt the birth of a child, while villagers break bread. Across the island it sweeps, the thunder of its malcontent sending shivers down the backs of children and adults alike. The sound manifests within the bodies of those who hear it, giving them frightful pause to consider the creature that could make such a noise. 

This monster, who devours the poor souls that become trapped in its maze, makes it impossible to live a truly peaceful life. The people accept this reality because they have no other options. _The people are fools._

Rey experiences a different reaction to the howl. Dread does not twist in her belly, nor does she start trembling. When her thoughts dwell on him, no degree of terror tightens her throat. More often than not, Rey thinks of him and feels pity. And, if she’s being honest, _jealousy._

She contemplates the beast frequently, trapped inside a prison more constricting than her own. In an endless cycle of isolation and sorrow, she imagines him walking the narrow avenues of the labyrinth, consoled by nothing but the drifting stars above the labyrinth. The beast has nothing else to observe but the changing sky, in daylight and nighttime. _How the stars must shift, over so many long years._

Sometimes, Rey tries to visualize how he might gaze at the constellations, seeking understanding and meaning, perhaps even companions among the points of light. Anything to combat the shadowed emptiness of a maze, designed to keep its victims within its looming walls. Countless victims; all lost, all doomed. 

_Like so many on this very island._

He too is a victim. Rey knows this to be true, despite what everyone else believes-- and expects her to believe, as well. The Minotaur was placed in the Labyrinth as punishment for someone else’s actions, an event between a human and a beast by whim of a god. _This cruelty is displaced._ But most brutality is. 

And he probably has no conception of why his life takes this form. That perhaps is the worst part. Born and banished, never to know one’s own origins, let alone morph them. _I will change this._

Rey understands how the Minotaur’s fate is simply another way the gods inflict suffering on all _lesser_ beings. Consequently, Rey hates the gods. They subjugate, exploit, and violate without regard. They are the same beings who demand adoration and worship above all else. Rey hates their hypocrisies, their self-absorption. The mortal world is their playground to desecrate and demand of simultaneously. Still, the people do not object. They continue as the tiny mechanized bugs they are, efficiently and with heads lowered.

Of course, she does not dare even whisper this disdain. Not yet. She must coax her loathing in secret, feeding and encouraging it to grow. Of all things, Rey excels in being patient.

Her affiliation with the gods is an ironic one. Through the act of adoption, she transformed from street orphan to granddaughter of Helios. At her most generous, Rey knows this connection could be more detestable; at least Helios doesn’t intrude on the lives of people. 

Nevertheless, Rey clings to her human identity. More than anything, she craves ownership of her own life and path. Her choices are hers alone and will stay that way. 

Fate is the enemy. Fate brought her here, and she will be free of its claws. Even if she has to break each curved, pointed nail herself.

In truth, the Minotaur is a good distraction from her banal, ornate days. The beast presents an exercise for her underutilized brain to concoct, plan, _dream._ He is her escape, her deliverance, however grisly.

His existence is cursed, constructed for reasons outside of himself and beyond his control. He is a result of lineage, of other people’s mistakes and choices, subjected to live a life that satisfies those in power. _The people I call parents. The gods these people worship._

He is not the monster. These people who control the lives of others are. _They do not deserve this power. I do. And with the Minotaur’s help, I will take it._

She’s startled from her thoughts when the door opens. Advisor Poe enters with long strides, his white robes swishing regally. He bows his head and the sun glints on his golden armbands. She glares at him.

“Princess, the King and Queen request your presence.” His eyes remain on the floor, dark curls shielding his expression from view. She guesses that messenger boy was not his aspiration when he became the advisor to the Palace of Crete. Rey’s interactions with Poe have always been limited, but she can discern how intelligent and ambitious he is. Even now, bowed before her, she senses how he itches for more.

She gestures toward him idly. “Tell my parents I shall be with them promptly.” He nods and moves to exit. Then a thought occurs to her, dragging her attention to a fine point. “Advisor,” Rey calls to his retreating form.

Poe turns at once, keeping his head low. “Yes, m’lady?”

“Is it true that the next sacrifices are on their way?”

“Yes, Princess. They should arrive tomorrow. That is one of the topics their majesties would like to discuss with you.”

Rey startles and darts a look toward him. “Why would they care to go over such events with me?”

Poe keeps his eyes averted and replies curtly. “It is not my place to say, m’lady.” He bows even lower as if to counter his response. Rey abruptly wants to shake him upright and demand further explanation.

Instead, she silently watches him leave.

_That is most unexpected. The King and Queen have never found reason to ask my counsel. So this must be something else._

Peering in her gilded mirror, Rey prepares to meet her parents’ expectations. She adjusts her buns with swift movements, nestles a small crown on the top of her head, and adorns an emerald necklace. Two swipes of rouge to each cheek completes the picture. She huffs in irritation.

 _”A princess must look the part,”_ Rey recalls the Queen saying upon her arrival. She was only six when they brought her into their world. It wasn’t out of the goodness of their hearts, Rey is sure. After years of speculation that the Queen herself could not carry a child, the Queen saw Rey in the streets by chance and was beset with compassion. _Or so the story goes._ Despite all of Rey’s attempts to understand, she knows a more profound truth persists beyond her grasp. It infuriates her not to know-- but this is by design.

She slips into the closest shoes and laces the gold twine up her calves. Then, she pulls her bodice gently, straightening the silken layers and tugging the belt tight. With a brief scowl, Rey makes her way out of her room and into the arched hallway.

Through the half-circle windows, the placid sea sparkles in the afternoon light. Rey does not look. Its endless expanse makes her exceedingly queasy. _No escape from this place._ She shivers despite the warm breeze.

Rey’s prison has no towering barricades or darkened edges. Hers is lined by the ravenous, lapping crests of waves, foamed and delicate and salty. She wants nothing to do with the ocean. It yawns deep as the sky, wanting only to consume her.

Her fabric shoes make no sound on the polished marble; only a wisping wind through the bright green vines mars the quiet. If the wind is right, she can hear a hint of the city’s clamor and bustle. But most of the time the palace rests well above the sound of others. Displaced, removed. This too is by design.

Because of her role as the adopted daughter of King Minos and Queen Pasiphae of family Palpatine, Rey has felt a most surprising seed of envy toward the creature in the maze. The Minotaur is indeed a prisoner, but he owes nothing to anyone, has no responsibilities, and lives to destroy. To consider such ability, such _power,_ sends a thrill through her, rapid and hungry. 

No one would guess that the lovely and meek princess has elaborate daydreams of demolishing the world around her, one jeweled piece at a time.

Passing the guards outside the throne room, Rey inhales slowly. The King can sense her unease and preys upon it. She fears him, though she’s reluctant to admit it to herself. He shows no cracks for her to enlarge, no weakness for her to take advantage of. But the Queen is a different story.

When she nods, the guards open the doors and she gracefully enters.

“Mother, Father,” Rey says with a bow. “I am here per your summoning.” She expertly swallows the bile rising in her throat.

The Queen, unsurprisingly, offers a generous smile. And yet, Rey notes the tightening of skin around her eyes. It means the Queen engages with an internal struggle of sorts, one Rey cannot begin to guess at.

“Princess Rey, we have an important matter to discuss with you.” 

Rey pulls her concentration from the Queen and onto Palpatine. This man is far too old to be her father. His white hair has thinned, and lines crowd his features. He looks wilted from the pull of gravity, Rey has often thought. Or melted by time. Either way, he has no shred of fatherly kindness or wisdom in him. She understood at a young age not to look for such a presence in her life.

Rey allows her eyes to sweep the room. Advisor Poe stands to the Queen’s right, hands folded in front of him, eyes guarded. She likes being able to see his full, handsome face. It’s challenging to read, always shrouded, but she doesn’t begrudge the opportunity to study him. 

Of course, no matter how attractive he may be, she would never pursue Poe. A man who chooses servitude, even if it brings him closer to power, is contemptible. Such a man is not for her.

The King breaks the building silence.

“King Aegeus has sent a message that his son, Prince Finn, shall be arriving in Crete tomorrow.” The King stares at her, waiting for any sign of emotion. Rey neutralizes her expression and waits for him to continue.

“Rey,” the Queen cuts in. It’s hard to miss the look of irritation Palpatine gives his wife at the interruption. But she ignores him out of habit more than obliviousness. The Queen may often play naive, but Rey has seen how crafty the woman can be. And how composed.

“Prince Finn has volunteered to venture into the Labyrinth. He does it in your honor and plans to kill the beast for your hand.” The Queen says it slowly, enunciating the words in her usual grandiose manner. Rey has often felt it was a way to demonstrate her importance while disregarding the value of other people’s time. It’s a subtle weapon that the Queen wields. But Rey cannot understand how that is enough for her. 

The King resumes his explanation.

“I have agreed to these terms with King Aegeus. Prince Finn shall enter the maze, kill the monster, and then return to his home with you as his betrothed.”

Her insides turn molten with rage. Still, she overcomes the various twitches that run through her limbs. _I control myself. I control my future._

“Yes, father,” Rey replies evenly. Then she decides to say something brazen. “I look forward to meeting Prince Finn tomorrow and to seeing the beast’s severed head on a platter the following day.”

The Queen’s hand flies to her mouth. Rey glances at Palpatine, who smirks. Then she notes how Poe’s eyes bore into her, for reasons she cannot guess. _Let them know I am no shrinking damsel. I too dream of victory and bloodshed. But not in the manner they have laid out here._

Rey relaxes her shoulders and slips into the mask of a smile. “Pardon my enthusiasm, Mother. I feel such joy at this news. The removal of the Minotaur, as well as a betrothal, is more than I could have imagined.” She inclines her head respectfully. The Queen leans back on her throne.

“Good. I thought perhaps you would protest the decision. You have always been such a... spirited girl.” Palpatine’s condescension leaks from him at the same rate that her hatred crystalizes, sharp and reflective. Rey considers running forward to scratch the sneer from his face. 

But she overcomes this impulse quickly. Taking a note from the Queen’s book, she replies slowly, demurely. The words matter less than her overall deferences.

“I believe it is time I grow up, Father.”

The man presses his lips together, appeased by her reply. _Fooled by my performance._ Rarely does she have a sense of triumph when talking with the King. 

_It feels good. Addictive._

“Dear, I have heard Prince Finn is a brave man, handsome, and kind. I think he will be a fine husband for you. We shall greet him tomorrow morning together.” The Queen walks closer, bringing her hands to Rey’s face. “My daughter. So beautiful, so strong. This will be a good match. For you and our kingdom. Though I will miss you.”

Rey searches the woman’s eyes and decides the Queen is sincere. With a small smile, Rey nods. “Thank you, Mother. I hope we will all find our proper place in this new life.” They embrace and Rey affects a weepy sound. The Queen nods several times, her sniffles more genuine.

_Little do they know what this new life holds for them._  
  


* * *

  
As soon as her bedroom door closes, her decorative shoes are kicked from her feet. Rey hastily unclasps her gown and it puddles on the floor. She starts pacing.

An enveloping sense of powerlessness invades her. _I am swept by the river of fate again. Unable to make the most base decisions for myself, including what partner I take, whether I take a partner at all._

She grabs a shiny embroidered pillow and throws it. There is a dull smacking noise as it hits the wall, which is neither satisfying nor sufficient. Rey snatches another one and screams into it. The silk fluff muffles her outburst enough but it does nothing to lessen her mounting agitation. 

_These men discuss my life without regard for my wants or desires, let alone needs. I will kill them all._

Rey roughly tugs the ribbons from her hair, which falls upon her shoulders in honey-hued browns. Absently, she runs a hand through it, then glances at herself in the mirror. The crown on her head makes her look like a princess, not a Queen. She looks away at once.

In an abstract way, she knows she’s beautiful, has heard the tales of how many suitors come to take her hand. Not that she has seen any evidence of this. King Palpatine prefers to send them away before she has a chance to even look upon them.

But this new union benefits him and his kingdom. That is the only reason he agreed to it. After years of calculations and plans, Palpatine has found a solution to the problem that was his adoptive child. And Rey hates him all the more for it.

_He has no idea how capable I am. I will sculpt something from this that is to my liking._

Despite the intensity of her thoughts, Rey feels depleted. She slumps onto the bed. Late afternoon light casts a warm glow upon the ceiling and she studies it morosely. Only then does Rey realize she hasn’t yet had her midday meal. 

She briefly considers meeting her parents in the dining hall but concludes she’d rather call a servant to bring a meal to her room. They won’t fault her for that, not with such changes imminent. They’ll respect her preference for privacy. 

_A small gift they grant me. A break from my performance before the final act begins tomorrow._

The silence and stillness of the space alleviate her tension gradually. There are too many people to encounter every day, too many words pulled through her gritted teeth. She must always remember to swallow her snarl, choke back the vitriol she wishes to unleash upon these people who claim to be her family. 

The roles of _princess_ and _daughter_ weigh at her ankles and threaten to subsume her. To consider her empty, elegant life produces a sinewy kind of nausea that wraps around her mind, tight and unflinching. Each component of her appearance is a piece of her capture. _You are owned. You are decorative. Nothing more._

None of this life she claims as her own. None of it suits her needs. And so, she sits in her room and plots to dismantle it.  
  


* * *

  
“King Palpatine beckons you, Princess. Prince Finn has arrived,” the servant states quietly from the door.

Rey doesn’t turn from her position at the window. From here, she can see most of the labyrinth. It soothes her, oddly, to peer over the circuitous lines lurching back and forth, angles and lines compacted tightly together. She can trace it like she once did of insect patterns chewed into leaves. 

“Thank you, Kay. Please let him know I will be there presently.”

The woman bows and leaves noiselessly. Rey hesitates, then walks to her balcony and takes a deep breath. She knows Palpatine will be irritated by her delay, but she’s unconcerned. _He’s about to be rid of me. He will not find cause to complain._

Leaning on the railing, she tries to envision what the beast is doing at this very moment. No one living has seen him. But in her imagination, he is a colossal being, muscled, _expansive_. His eyes are haunted and his gaze hungry. The stories describe his fangs, hooves, and horns. Rey enjoys these details in addition to her own. They’re weapons she hopes to utilize.

The prospect offers a strangely flickering hope, something she keeps buried. _No one can suspect a princess would cultivate such destruction. And no one will._

Rey straightens and moves through her white-walled room to check herself again. The night had been long and sleepless, and the evidence is obvious. She grimaces at the sight of bags under her eyes, grabbing her concealing paste and rouge.

 _I must make sure I am presentable. It would be such a shame to disappoint my father, especially on the cusp of leaving his house._ She smirks when her work is done.

Several minutes later, Rey makes her way through the palace. She breathes to the rhythm of each step, observing the inhale through her nostrils, sensing the exhale through her parted lips. The high domes of the halls let planes of morning light stream in, warming the marble under her feet. 

Servants make themselves scarce, scurrying to the back rooms.They must be invisible. They’re the connective tissue that makes this whole charade run smoothly. To see them ruins it. If she could talk to them, she’d express all the words that sear her internally; _“I know this is all a ruse. I am a liar just the same as everyone else. But not for much longer.”_

All too soon Rey arrives at the throne room entrance. The guards see her imploring hand and wait to open the doors, giving her just a few more seconds. She’s grateful.

In her pause, Rey thinks of the creature in the maze once more. How the noise he makes is one of grief, so pungent and visceral it rends the air. Someday soon she’ll let herself match the sound in ferocity and duration. Her rage will meet his, and he won’t be alone anymore. Then they will turn his grief into something that truly terrifies.

Rey gives them a nod and the doors swing open. She drifts forward into the room, propelled by the unknowns of the past and the possibilities of the future. _Here we go._

She stands before the King and Queen, bows, and waits for Palpatine to speak. But it’s someone else’s voice that rings out first.

“Princess Rey, it is an honor to meet you.” A man takes several steps forward, dark boots clacking on the floor until he stands before her. He bends low, adjusting his sword so it doesn’t catch on the floor.

Rey’s eyes had been trained on the king; she hadn’t noticed the newcomer upon entering the room. Now, she turns and takes him in. He is adorned richly, his uniform suited for a royal and a soldier. Eventually, he straightens and meets Rey’s eyes. _The Queen was not wrong. He is indeed handsome._ She opens her mouth to speak when her mother interrupts, misreading Rey’s rigidity for awkwardness.

“Princess Rey, this is Prince Finn, your champion and betrothed, should fate shine on him today.”

“I am most glad to welcome you to Crete, Prince Finn. I am confident in your ability to rid our city of the Minotaur and will gladly celebrate this success as your wife.” Feeling the full weight of his eyes, Rey allows her features to soften. In response, he smiles boyishly and nearly bounces with excitement.

_He seems young, naive, and sincere. It will be simple to outwit him._

“This is a grand day indeed,” the King proclaims, standing and clapping his hands. “Prince Finn must prepare for his task. The Minotaur will be most affronted to come upon this gallant prince instead of the expected group of sacrifices.” He laughs. It’s such a cold sound it makes Rey shudder.

Finn seems calm as he turns to the King. “I have trained for many years and have studied the stories of the Minotaur. I should be able to slay the beast without much delay.”

_Now is the time to set the pieces in place._

“Prince Finn, we thank you for your bravery.” Rey’s heart starts beating faster. “If I may make a humble request?” She looks to the King, bringing her hands to her back to link her fingers.

Palpatine raises his eyebrows indulgently. It tells her he is in an accommodating mood. She smiles.

“I ask that Prince Finn wait to enter the maze until tomorrow. I too have studied the labyrinth, staring at it for years from my balcony. I have an idea for a way to escape.” By now, her fingers are wrapped tightly around each other, bloodless from the force.

Finn stares at her in confusion, then interest. The Queen looks thoughtful for a moment, then gives Rey a discrete proud smile. The King’s brow furrows. After a long moment, he speaks. 

“Prince Finn, what say you to my daughter’s suggestion?”

“King Palpatine, exiting the Labyrinth has always posed a larger challenge than dispatching the creature. I would be greatly appreciative of any ideas the Princess can offer.”

Everyone looks at her and for the first time, Rey notices Poe. His eyes catch the light in a peculiar way. It doesn’t take her long to realize he knows she’s up to something. She tears her gaze from his and looks to Finn.

“If Prince Finn approves, I see no reason to deny you, daughter. We shall meet before dinner and discuss this plan together.”

Rey swallows. _I had hoped it would just be the Prince to whom I would speak. Still, things will proceed well enough._

“Thank you, father.” She offers her most radiant smile to the King, Queen, and Prince. Each smile she receives gives her the assurance no one suspects anything.

Only when she bows and exits does she bare her teeth.


	3. The Variance of Choice

“A red thread?” the king’s voice echoes between the marble walls of the dining room. The reverberation makes him sound more aloof than usual. But there’s something else in his tone that eludes her.

Rey sits immobile, sensing that at present she balances on the edge of a knife. _Will he see through me? Can he guess what thoughts form in the darkness of my mind?_

As Palpatine looks at her, his brows raise slightly. Rey fights the urge to glare back at him. It takes all her years of training but her face remains placid and her voice is smooth.

“Yes, father. A red thread that Prince Finn will drop during his course into the maze, which will allow him to retread the same path back to the outside.” Rey aches from her overly stiff posture. Nevertheless, she doesn’t show this discomfort. 

The Queen stares at her. To Rey’s wonder, there is a note of pride glinting in the woman’s eyes. Rey turns to the King sitting at the head of the table. The look he gives her is different than before and no less strange. Like his face muscles have been unused for too long, and don’t quite remember how to function. _Is he about to smile?_ Rey’s heart clenches at the notion. 

On impulse, she looks to Poe, whose expression yields nothing, as usual. Try as she does, Poe continues to be the only person she cannot figure out. This makes her want to know him all the more, but there isn’t time for that. 

Prince Finn, on the other hand, Rey understood at first glance. The man is proud, strong, and kind, though overly sheltered. His unique combination of confidence and naivete is charming, in a way. She looks at him across the table and notices the set of his jaw. _I almost feel compassion for the man, his painfully youthful and hopeful nature. And so fundamentally wrong about the way this world functions._

Finn leans forward and locks eyes with her, his enthusiasm too sincere to be theatrical. “That is a fantastic idea, princess.” His energy is resolute, eager. _This man is ready to take on the Minotaur. Too bad he will be too late._ She lets her lips curve upward at the prince.

“It is a fine idea, daughter,” Palpatine commends. That too feels unfamiliar. The King has always held compliments close to his chest, saving them for when all other options for manipulating and cajoling have been exhausted. She balks at the compliment.

All eyes rest on her and Rey holds her breath for a moment. A clink draws her attention back to the Queen, who has raised her glass. The King, Prince Finn, and Poe mirror the action graciously, saluting her and drinking. She follows suit woodenly.

A host of feelings struggle for dominance inside her when everyone resumes eating. It’s an overwhelming tumult. _They are proud of me. For such a simple solution to a problem._ Her insides feel heated as if she stood too close to the fire and was singed for her folly. Then she reconsiders. Perhaps it’s not uncomfortable, to bask in their pride. _Perhaps it’s something I’ve always wanted._

She flushes from embarrassment and takes another sip of wine to cover it. That such a small, positive reaction elicites this level of emotional turmoil makes her heavy with shame. _How absurdly sentimental. The King has tried to stamp out that weakness. I have learned much from him. Soon, he will know how far I have come._ Rey places a delicate bite of fish into her mouth, finally remembering to act normal.

Poe leans closer to the King, catching Rey’s attention. He’s whispering behind his hand. She knows the advisor is already filling the older man’s ear with his own ideas and suggestions. This poses a potential threat to her plan. However, she will be gone before anything Poe says can make a difference.

_Now I must consider what comes next, once I meet the Minotaur and release him._

The rest of the meal moves slowly enough to be excruciating. Rey listens to the flow of conversation half-heartedly, pouring her apprehension into eating. _You have been patient all your life. Another hour is nothing._

When at last the King waves his hand for the dessert plates to be removed by the servants, Rey exhales quietly in relief.

“Prince Finn, we thank you for coming to rid our great city of this beast.” The King raises to his feet. Finn promptly follows.

“It is my honor to be of service,” Finn replies reverently. He bows to the King and Queen, then walks around the table to Rey. Tentatively, he grasps her hand and brings it to his lips. Then, Rey feels a feather-light pressure on her knuckles. An unexpected shiver runs down her spine in response, a reminder of how rarely she experiences touch.

 _Pathetic. I have more important concerns than saccharine gestures and intimacy._

Rey inclines her head at him and he straightens but doesn’t release her.

“Good night, Prince Finn,” the Queen says loudly. At once, Finn blushes, realizing he has held onto Rey’s hand for too long.

“Your majesties.” He bows again and leaves. 

Rey moves to depart after him when the Queen stops her. “Rey, how are you feeling? You spoke little during the remainder of our meal.” The concern in her eyes triggers another bewildering series of feelings. Ones Rey prefers to ignore.

“I am well, mother. Perhaps tired from today and assuredly eager for tomorrow.” Rey forces a smile, while trying to stifle an underlying melancholy. 

_Will this be the last time I see these people who I have called parents? The last time I will look upon the only people I have known?_ The possibility jars her.

“Of course. Rest well, dear.” The Queen releases Rey.

“Until tomorrow, daughter,” the King calls, interrupting his conversation with Poe.

“Until tomorrow,” Rey repeats sweetly. For good measure, she looks to the younger man and tilts her head in farewell. “Poe.”

“Princess,” he replies. A rippling disappointment takes hold of her. _Why am I regretting this already? I have not cared for these people. And yet, on the precipice of leaving them...._

She swallows and leaves the room. For too long she has worked to harden her heart, to cultivate the traits that King Palpatine favors. He has achieved everything she desires; power and command, both for himself and over those around him. To her aggravation, a deep part of her craves more, craves what she has so rarely been given.

 _When it is ultimately in my grasp, I turn into a simpering fool, melting at kind words and touches._ She presses her lips into a tight line. Her fingernails curl into her skin until she winces in pain. 

Walking the palace halls, moonlight splashes onto the chilled pale floor. It makes her think of sunbleached bones. A barrage of self-recriminations fill her mind, choking her. Suddenly, a rasping howl cuts the quiet and she seizes, then relaxes. _The Minotaur is my future. He is in that maze, waiting. As I have been waiting._

She enters her room, stomach filled with acid and muscles taught. Expertly, Rey pushes away her feelings of longing, rejection, and powerlessness. She deliberately steels her nerves and braces herself for what comes next.

By the time she hears the creature’s resounding wail again she is dressed. Her emotions have been reigned in, stray thoughts collected and subdued. Without a backward glance, Rey leaves the palace and her old life behind.  
  


* * *

  
Several hours pass before Knossos falls entirely asleep. In the darkness, Rey observes the dim, hushed houses lining the street. Each one could hold a person capable of disrupting or altogether derailing her plan. 

She glances left and right, hood draped over her head. A dazzle of stars makes the sky feel bolted in place, shepherded by a waxing gibbous moon. She wears pants and a shirt from the servant girl under the heavy cloak. When Rey first made this request from Kay, the girl rejected any payment for the items. But Rey insisted, partially in consideration of Kay getting in trouble for losing a uniform and partly to certify Kay’s silence on the matter. Though Rey assured herself it was in her best interest to reimburse Kay, there was a nauseating impulse to _demonstrate gratitude for Kay’s assistance._ Rey didn’t allow herself to linger on it.

Creeping stealthily through the city, Rey keeps her elbows bent and toes light upon the ground. When a hair-raising, guttural sound eviscerates the night, Rey freezes. _I’ve never heard his voice this close._ It reaches her ears differently on ground level as opposed to on the palace hill. The maze deadens his roar somewhat but she still discerns the raw, tremulous quality she has come to know. For once it makes her tremble.

_Have I overestimated myself? Do I finally feel the fear he so easily conjures in everyone around me?_

Whether from stubbornness or folly, Rey swallows her trepidation and continues forward. After a few more steps, a loud rustling makes her eyes grow wide and heart start hammering. Whipping her head around, she spots the culprit at once; a little cat in search of dinner. With a sharp exhale she resumes walking.

Though she knows it’s there, shock still turns her body cold when the opening to the Labyrinth yawns before her. The walls must be over sixteen feet tall. They’re smooth, reflective, and ghostly in the light. No sign warns passerby about this entryway, for that would be wholly unnecessary. Everyone knows why these walls exist and what lives _inside._

There is a tree standing nearby, aged yet solid. They dot the city streets, for shade and fruit and play spaces for the city’s children. Rey ties the end of her thread around one of its firm branches and tugs hard. The branch shakes slightly, but the knot holds firm. She ties it twice more, for good measure.

Then, Rey focuses on the ground in front of her, placing one foot before the other, and taking deliberate breaths. The dirt barely shows her light footprints. One, two, three steps. She keeps going until she reaches ten. It takes several moments to recognize she now stands well inside the maze.

Instantly her feet stop moving, eyes darting around to take in the somber place. The walls look sinister in their blankness, a taunt or a promise of the madness to come. She feels their indifference, their impenetrable stasis. She bites her inner cheek as dread steadily creeps.

_This was designed and constructed by a human and yet mimics the cold disregard of the sea. The walls will reach over me, pull me down. I will lose myself here._

Rey violently shakes her head to dispel the encroaching despair. _No. This is what I have been preparing for. Nothing will keep me from reaching my goal._ She glowers at the maze and starts walking again. 

She clutches the large ball of string between her hands, tightening her grip. The fibers tickle the soft pads of her fingers. Rey adjusts her hold, allowing the string to unwind without snagging, and picks up her pace.

Time slips by like the red thread while she finds her way through the corridors. Twice she hears him, one time close enough to make goosebumps erupt on her skin, the second time even farther away. She grits her teeth in frustration.

Though she has studied the maze from her windowsill for years, being within it is more challenging than anticipated. Without her previous vantage point, she struggles to navigate the corridors, having to turn back repeatedly and find a different route. The thought makes her scoff. _It is meant to be challenging. The real problem is I have no sense of his location. And even if I did, he will not stop moving._

Another possibility occurs to her; to call for him. It’s risky, of course. Upon hearing her, he could sneak up and kill her before she even knows he’s there. _That could happen without calling for him, too._ She swallows fiercely. 

Rey wonders about his possibly heightened senses. _He must have excellent nighttime vision. Perhaps he can even smell humans?_ Otherwise it might be difficult to track his meals in the maze. But he hasn’t found her yet. It becomes clear how little she actually knows about this creature. _And how risky this endeavor truly is._

A new rustling intrudes on her awareness, urgent and pronounced.

Rey holds her breath and listens intently. After a moment, she identifies soft shuffling and a quiet kind of groan. It doesn’t sound like a beast. _Perhaps it’s a lost animal._ Many animals, both pet and stray, have gone missing in Knossos. Most of them are assumed to be victims of the labyrinth. 

Craning her neck, Rey makes her way around another corner and comes up short, stumbles, tenses. She claps her hands to her mouth to stifle a gasp. The ball of dwindling thread drops from her hands and lands noiselessly on the ground.

A large mound looms on the ground before her. It shifts and writhes, then settles. She can see the outline of the shape rise and fall. _Whatever it is, it appears to be sleeping._

Rey forgets to breathe until a sharpness cuts through her chest. With an excess of restraint, she pulls small parcels of air into her deprived lungs until they cease their protest.

She tries to clear her foggy brain. The shadow shape suddenly huffs and changes positions, breaking the spell. Rey steps forward.

“Hello,” she manages to say, voice quivering less than predicted. She rolls her shoulders back and stands tall. Movement ripples through the mound.

By the time Rey fully realizes the Minotaur is before her, it’s too late to flee.

“Get away from me.” It’s a grunt and a snort. Instinctively, Rey draws back. She blinks, sways uncertainly. _This is the moment to make him understand._

“I have come to free you.”

A protracted pause. A lifted limb. Eyes glint in her direction.

“Why would a sacrifice free me?” 

To Rey’s horror, he stands in a rush of shadow and fabric. She guesses he is more than six feet tall, but his horns add more to his height. He looms over her, blocking out the moon and the stars in that section of the sky. There’s a gravity to this void; she worries she will spill into it for an eternity.

Rey presses her lips together, adjusts her posture as the Queen always instructed, and drags her eyes to his face. 

He looks like a human wearing a bull’s mask. She can see the lines of his cheekbones, the jut of his nose under a layer of thick reddish-hued skin. This bull facade ends at his shoulders, which flare out into long, chiaroscuro arms and a broad chest. He wears a dark cloak clasped at the throat and a cloth wrapped around his hips. She wonders, inexplicably, if he’s cold. Without intending to, she glances down his legs and feet, which are decidedly human. 

Her throat is suddenly dry, fingers twisting together in a manner she knows would warrant a scolding from the Queen.

Rey senses that the silence has grown too much when his nostrils flare under her scrutiny. It’s severe and menacing. She considers running. _No. I have not come all this way to run._

Unflinching, she meets the Minotaur’s eyes again. It’s clear he isn’t used to people keeping their ground in his presence. A flicker of something changes in his gaze and he exhales weakly.

“You are not a sacrifice.” His voice is raspy from lack of use. 

“I am the Princess of Knossos. I have come to free you so that you may exact your revenge upon those who have kept you prisoner.”

His eyebrows furrow and his head tilts peculiarly. “What?” It’s a straightforward and informal question, one that leaves his face looking remarkably youthful.

She feels an odd urge to laugh. Instead, she clears her throat. “I am here to lead you from this place and give you the power and respect you deserve. You will be unleashed from your cage at last.”

The Minotaur takes a step back. “What makes you think this is a cage?”

_That I did not expect._

She blinks, finds her voice. “You are trapped in this labyrinth as punishment for a crime someone else committed. Born of a human and a bull, left to this life of isolation and suffering. We can change that.” She’s nearly breathless by the end.

He stares at her so hard she shifts uncomfortably. For the first time, she considers that he may simply kill her. _Perhaps I have overestimated my ability to persuade._ She fixates on regulating her breathing. 

“Born of a…?” The Minotaur stops talking, his face a shifting miasma. 

_It is safe to conclude he is indeed curious about his origins. Perhaps the promise of learning his own history will be what turns him from this awful place._

Silence gestates while the Minotaur’s eyes dart between hers, lips parted and chest heaving. Whatever he was thinking, it changes course dramatically. He finally move to speak and his voice is surprisingly calm.

“You think living in this place for my whole life, with nothing to do but wander, I never found the way out? That I do not know exactly where the opening is located? I choose to remain here, Princess. This is where I belong.”

Rey feels her jaw unhinge distantly, too overwhelmed by his words to reply. _Chooses to stay here? Who would choose that?_

A ripple of goosebumps race along her limbs, each tiny bump flaring in quick succession. She sways on her feet, flinging one hand onto the closest wall to steady herself. When she doesn’t speak for some time, the Minotaur gives her an impatient, dismissive look, and stalks down a corridor.

Several stagnant moments pass before his absence shocks her from her stupor. She glances up and leaps after him, following the softly echoing _slap-slap-slap_ of his bare feet on the ground. It takes a while to catch up.

“Wait! Minotaur!” Rey sprints until she nearly collides with him around the next corner. She steps back quickly.

“Explain what you mean. You could have left all these years? Could have lived a life of freedom and power?” Confounded, she watches his shoulders rise and fall in a transfixing rhythm.

“What you suggest is impossible. I bring nothing but fear to the world, will only feel the barbs of hatred.” He turns to glower at her. She steps forward to return the stare. He startles at the elected proximity.

“You are the most powerful creature in this land. You could bring the King to his knees, take the crown for yourself. Make everyone bow before you and never be confined again. You could be free!” Being this close requires a craning of the neck that almost hurts. But she keeps their eyes locked. 

A tangle of dark hair slips onto his forehead as he looks down at her. Something peels back in him, though she cannot describe it, let alone name it. Leaning forward, he brings his face within inches of her. Rey’s breath stills at once.

“Power is not freedom.” The Minotaur says it slowly, enunciating each word as if he’s trying to scratch it into her mind. He pauses there, lingering to study her face, gauge her reaction.

Rey doesn’t move either, defensiveness overtaking her astonishment. _He’s wrong. How can he be so wrong?_ She purses her lips and he steps backward, snapping the string of tension that suspends between them.

Without thinking, she grasps his arm. Instantly, the Minotaur flinches at the touch, his large, hollow eyes upon her. He goes limp. Rey is surprised by her perilous act, surprised even more by his reaction. _That must be some degree of progress._

“Power is the only thing that matters. That is the way to control your own life, dictate your own future. All those who have made you suffer, you can make them suffer in return. Now is your chance.”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then wrests himself free of her fingers.

“You think I am a monster.”

Rey almost sighs in exasperation. 

“I think you are a _king._ You are worthy of more than you can imagine. I can help you achieve it.”

He shakes his head. “No. You want to use me. Unleash the monster and reap what’s left after the violence.”

She pulls back, pauses. _He’s more clever than I thought he would be. Still, if only I can persuade him…_ She hardens her expression. “Together, we can disassemble all of Crete and rebuild it to our liking. The gods will interfere, but we can fight them. Don’t you see? We will strike down anyone who stands in our way.” 

Rey feels blood pumping through her veins as she speaks. But the sight of his face makes her falter. There is a shade of sadness there she cannot understand.

“I have lived my whole life in this place. Yet it is you I feel most sorry for, Princess.”

And with that, he walks away, leaving her once more in the harsh silence.  
  


* * *

  
_What a waste of time._ Rare tears sting the edges of Rey’s eyes, melting the white walls around her as she staggers along the pathway. Her steps are neither graceful nor quiet, but she has no energy to care. It’s unlikely anyone beyond could hear her, and if they did, there is no reason why they would suspect the princess walks the labyrinth. The thought is preposterous, of course.

More secretly, part of her hopes that the Minotaur will hear and come after her.

_What an absurd desire. A foolish wish._

In a haze of anger, she left the much-dwindled ball of thread where it fell. Rey keeps her eyes trained on the previously laid thread, grateful that following the blood-tinged chord takes little effort. She rewinds through the maze, weary but relentless.

“Perhaps I can pursuade Poe to help me take down his master,” Rey mumbles to herself. It’s an exciting idea. “It could be exactly the opening he has been waiting for to seize power. He would not be the worst of partners…” She thinks of him and warms, briefly. _But would I have to share power? Would he expect to have equal rulership?_ She shakes her head.

“Finn, then. He kills the Minotaur. I go back to his kingdom. Kill him one day and seize power.” She rattles the idea off unenthusiastically. She realizes distantly her bloodlust has diminished. 

Then, her thoughts return to her previous plan, but with different intent. _I should go back to him. Try a alternate approach to make him understand and come with me. I cannot leave him here. He’s so alone._

There is something amorphous brewing inside her, a thought that will only spark further confusion if she addresses it. The Minotaur’s words had an impact on her, however little she wants to acknowledge it. Rey fears that if she stops for long enough, the truth of his perspective might warp whatever resolve she still clings to.

_“Power is not freedom.”_

_He is wrong. He has to be wrong._

With a sharp inhale, Rey stops walking and tries to calm her suddenly erratic heartbeat. It thunders and hurts, leaving her grimacing. Several attempts at deep breaths only leave her dizzy with an influx of air. Chaotic thoughts clash inside the confines of her head, demanding more focus than she can spare them. Helplessly, Rey doubles over, clammy hands pressed against her temples to find a sense of order, of understanding.

Then, a single nauseating terror grips her.

 _What if what he said is true? After everything I have seen the King achieve, how could power not be the most important goal?_ Her eyes are wide, tears threatening escape from her lids. In response, she shuts them tight and grinds her teeth. Through force of will, Rey stills herself, heart slowly settling, breath evening. 

_If he is right, if I will not achieve the life I have always wanted through destroying the King, what do I have left?_

Rey thinks of the Minotaur, resigned to his fate, crushed by isolation. _Why would anyone choose such a life?_ Something shifts inside her, from cloud-like to fixed. All at once her mind clears.

Glancing up, Rey notes the shifting sky colors and knows that dawn is already fast approaching. _If I am going to find him, I have to do it quickly._

Rey turns on her toe and starts running deeper into the maze. Her blurred vision makes hurtling around corners challenging, but she doesn’t slow down. _I have to convince him. There must be something I can say to make him leave, even if it’s not to help me. I want him to be free of this pain._

The stars glisten above her, unconcerned by her race against time. Gradually, they begin to fade into the brightening sky as the sun whispers along the horizon.The telltale sounds of Knossos waking up creep over the Labyrinth walls.

She runs faster. Tracking the red line on the ground around another corner, she abruptly slams into a dense mass. The impact forces air from her chest, and a distant pain in her head gives the impression she has fallen. The last thing she sees is a half-man, half-bull enveloping her as she slips into oblivion.


	4. And Then We Were Unbound

Rey jolts awake and immediately regrets it. Her body smarts in multiple areas simultaneously, each one screaming for her attention first. Reluctantly, she begins to assess her physical state. 

First is her head, which throbs in vicious cycles of intensity. Her limbs are strangely heavy, each one draped on her stomach. A hip feels jarred and sore. She shifts automatically to relieve the pressure.

Rey blinks and waits for her eyes to clear. When they do, she sees the Minotaur crouching inches away, another inexplicable expression painting his face. She stiffens slightly then haltingly moves to sit up.

“Slowly,” he cautions, arms shooting out to support her. Rey impatiently brushes them away. 

“What happened?”

She tries to adjust herself on the hard ground. The exertion makes her groan. He leans forward to help but she throws a shaky hand up to stop him. She stifles a grimace and gestures for him to answer her question.

“You ran into me, hit the wall, and fell to the ground. You were unconscious for a few minutes.” He pauses. “Why did you come back?”

She’s not ready to answer that. “Why did you not kill me?” She meets his eyes, which appear a bit frantic. He inhales, the lines of his face hardening, and speaks evenly.

“I have killed only one person in my life.” His jaw shifts as he leans on the further wall. Rey waits for him to say more, gritting her teeth at the continued headache.

“Then how have you stayed alive? And where are all the sacrifices if you did not kill them?”

His expression grows distant. “Some killed themselves, some each other. Others died from thirst, starvation. I took that first life ignorantly, thinking it was the only way. Everything after that… I simply came upon.” 

Bile rises in her throat. Staring at him, Rey attempts to fit these pieces together. _Everything we have been told about him is wrong._

She keeps staring, tracing the plains of his face. Already his human features overpower that of the bull. And within their details, she notes a wounded look, one left by his own confession, conveying how he mourns what he has done to survive.

Rey’s brain tingles curiously, thoughts coalescing around a new understanding. _Empathy. He has empathy._ She keeps studying him, despite the growing dawn and the way he squirms under her inspection. But he doesn’t protest beyond shooting her furtive, fretful looks.

Steadily, her understanding of him forms. _He has chosen a life of isolation and suffering because he thinks he deserves it. He genuinely does not want to hurt anyone._ She blinks at him, a small smile chasing her confused consternation away. In spite of herself, a bewildering compassion begins to take shape. 

“So you are not a killer?” The choice of words make her wince. 

But Rey’s not able to dwell on that long, instead distracted by the aggressive flush of his cheeks. “No. Though I know everyone believes that to be true.” His mouth opens to say more, then it snaps shut.

“If you are not the monster the stories say you are, why do you stay here?” 

He’s on his feet in an instant. “Look at me!” It’s nearly a roar. Rey rears back, hits her head again, her teeth clacking painfully. His wildly flailing arms promptly settle. He slumps down once more, eyes glued to her with concern. 

“I’m fine,” she tells him. He looks away, as if ashamed of his himself. _Try something, anything to put him at ease._ “What is your name?”

His eyes shoot open and he looks at her. “I do not have one.” 

_Oh._ She is getting the hang of reading his expressions; this one she calls _crestfallen._ It makes her heart aches a little, which she finds disconcerting. Though her head and hip still hurt, she moves to sit beside him. His eyes fall on her heavily, warily.

Settling onto the ground, Rey lets her knee rest inches from his and tries a different approach. “Is there a name you would like to be called?”

He freezes then looks away sheepishly. Directing his eyes to the sky, he clears his throat. “I… once heard a voice call out near the periphery of the maze. The voice was high and--” he works his lips. “Loving. It said ‘Ben, time for dinner!’” A ghost of a smile passes over his mouth, and his throat bobs. Several seconds pass and he ventures a look at her. Rey feels herself smile, an uncontrolled reaction that she doesn’t mind in the least.

“Ben is a good name.”

If the light were more generous, perhaps she would see the full extent of his relief. But in the semi-darkness she can _feel_ how he relaxes. Ben coughs shyly. 

“Is it childish to feel this happy about someone showing me kindness?” He glances over at her to see her reaction, or perhaps to make sure she hasn’t vanished.

“That is something I can relate to. Yesterday was the first time that the King complimented me as an adult. And I had never seen such pride in the Queen’s face before. It made me… happy, I suppose.” Talking openly calms Rey’s mind more than she expected it would.

“What is your name, Princess?” he asks softly.

For once the moniker doesn’t feel forced or belittling. “Rey.” She smiles, and for a moment he does too. It’s very short-lived. “I can tell you about your origins, if you would like.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. But his eyes are round with a guarded anticipation. Rey watches him fidget, fingers tangling in his lap.

“The story goes that Poseidon, god of the sea, sent a white bull to be sacrificed by the people of Crete. But, foolishly, the old King decided it should live. Poseidon of course was much angered by this defiance.” Ben hangs on her words with brows creased and lips parted. She doesn’t want to finish but cannot stop now. “In his anger, he decided to punish the King of Crete by making his wife the Queen fall in love with the creature. Upon their union, the Queen became pregnant.”

Ben isn’t discernably breathing. But his eyes are alive, fierce and flickering. “What happened next?” he asks quietly.

“The shame was too great. The Queen took her own life after the birth. The King, weakened by the affair, was overthrown by my adoptive father Palpatine. One of his first commands as the new king was to construct the Labyrinth. You were born more than a babe so no one cared when you were cast inside its walls soon after.”

It’s impossible to miss how he suffers through the tale. She cushions it as best she can, softening her voice and willing compassion into each word. But it’s not enough and he starts to tremble.

Hesitantly, she places a hand on his leg. “I do not know my origins. I was born to someone I will never know, abandoned early, left to survive alone on the streets of Knossos. I cannot say which is better; to learn the truth or to stay ignorant.” She swallows and tightens her grip on his knee. Under her palm she feels the shaking ease.

“Thank you for telling me. Over the years, I constructed many stories. I came up with reasons and excuses for why I am as I am.” He shakes his head, unwilling to dwell on it any longer. “Rey, I’m sorry you were… discarded in that way. I don’t know how anyone could treat another person like that.” He gulps. “I do not want to avenge any wrongdoing of the past. But the pain you suffered as a child… That I wish I could change.”

Ben rests his hand upon hers. The weight is comforting and warm. She forgets her injuries. When she darts a look at him, he almost smiles.

Then a shadow falls upon him and he looks away.

“Thank you for coming back, Rey. I am… glad to have seen you again. But the sun is rising. You need to leave the labyrinth.” He stands and offers her a hand. She takes it, her jaw slack from his abrupt and discomfiting shift. The warmth of his skin sends tiny flakes of heat into her hand and she ponders what it might feel like to place her palm on his cheek. His fingers release her but she decides not to him go.

“Ben, I know I came here with the wrong assumptions about you. For that, I am deeply sorry. Now... I want to help you. Please leave with me.” Rey grips him with both hands, urgent and insistently. “We can go anywhere you feel safe. More than anything, _I want you to feel safe._ ”

Ben’s standing absolutely still, arms and mouth loose. “Your whole life you have thought I was a monster in a cage. You do not know me.”

“But I do know something about you; that you have never experienced elation or contentment, and I know you deserve to. And for the first time in my life, Ben, I _want_ to help.” She laughs, intoxicated by this unfamiliar sentiment. “I have only ever made decisions for myself, to reach my own objectives. But with you… I--” Her throat catches, vision turning watery. Ben pitches lower to bring his face more even with hers. His eyes search her face, chasing understanding. “It feels right to consider you, to defend you. I cannot explain it but I don’t think I need to.”

His look of stagnated confusion almost makes her laugh. At that moment, the first rays of sunrise hit his dark hair, causing Rey to send a finger to brush it from his forehead. He shudders and leans into her touch. 

That’s when she knows she has convinced him.

“You are baffling and beautiful,” he rumbles faintly. A surge of chaotic glee floods her body, causing her to sway, and his arms shoot up to incase her, steady her. She doesn’t mind in the least.

“Alright, I will come with you. But we must go now. Already it could be too late.” 

Rey twines her fingers through his and jerks her head in an unprincesslike manner. “I know the way.”

Ben actually snorts. “And you think I do not?” He allows her to tug him along the red thread, leaving the bowels of the maze behind. 

They don’t make it far before a new voice slices the early morning air.

“Princess, move away from the beast at once.”

Rey jumps at the sound, heart hammering savagely. 

“Prince Finn,” she gasps. _We have run out of time._ She looks at Finn sternly, conjures every ounce of her royal demeanor. “I guarantee he is not dangerous.” 

The man frowns. “Of course he is, Princess. Now step away. I do not want to hurt you.” Finn closes the gap swiftly, sword outstretched. With each step, the blade catches splinters of light peaking over the labyrinth’s walls. 

Panicked, Rey grabs hold of Ben, positioning herself between him and the encroaching prince. Ben tenses, then shoves her behind him in turn. Rey yelps, stumbles, rights herself as Finn comes up short. She cranes around Ben’s frame to address the Prince.

“I command you to stop this, Prince Finn. Ben poses no threat to anyone, especially me.”

Finn stares at her. “Ben?” He shakes his head and glares at his adversary. “Here in this place, you cannot command me, Princess. The king has tasked me to kill the Minotaur. This is his fate and my destiny.” 

The prince positions himself for attack.

In response, Rey throws herself against Ben’s arms, spitting rage. Still, he easily contains her behind him. “You will not kill him! He is not what we have always been told! He is kind--”

Ben interrupts her with a restrained, fluid push, to safeguard her from the attack. Finn takes the opportunity to bring a striking blow down on Ben’s head. In a flash, Ben throws an arm up to block it, grunting at the impact, as blood drips grotesquely on the ground. 

A brutal fear seizes her.

Ben has a hold on Finn’s sword arm and overpowers the smaller man, forcing Finn backward. In the next instant, Finn finds his footing and forces the blade deeper, forcing Ben to stagger away, clutching his arm and gritting his teeth. Finn approaches again, undeterred by the wound or Rey’s frantic screaming.

“Finn, I beg you. Please let us go. He has done nothing wrong.”

That disrupts Finn’s focus. He balks and glances at Rey. Ben’s chest heaves, but he remains motionless.

“Nothing wrong? How can you say that? Why are you defending this monster?”

“He is not a monster,” Rey counters desperately. “He only killed the first sacrifice. You must believe me. He is a good man.” She scrambles toward Finn, eyes blown wide.

“You have gone mad.” It’s a whisper and an indictment. Rey shakes her head urgently, over and over. Finn watches her until his expression softens. “I will bring you from this place and everything will be as it once was. Trust me, Princess.” He lifts a gentle hand to Rey’s cheek, making her twitch free from his hold. 

“No! You do not unders--”

Finn closes his eyes and exhales. Then he looks at Rey. “Enough. I have a duty to fulfill, even if that means you will not return with me as my bride.”

Ben’s head shifts noticeably at the statement. Locking eyes with him for a moment, she tries to think of _anything_ that would broach the fraught silence. There in his dark eyes is a delicate thing in the process of shattering. It hurts to watch.

“Rey,” he breathes. “There was never any other future for me. Please go. I do not want you to witness what comes next.” His voice _breaks,_ and it triggers a splintering in her heart, both abrasive and scalding.

Rey can only discern his outline through her unexpectedly ferocious tears. They leave warm trails down her cheeks as she stares, the moment suspended between the three of them. Taut to the point of snapping. 

Rey shakes her head weakly. “I will not leave you,” she manages between tiny breathless sobs. _I have not cried like this since I was a child. How did I become someone I cannot even recognize in a span of a night? Someone who loves?_

“No,” she rasps and moves in front of Ben again.

Finn shakes his head. “Princess, the beast speaks the truth. You do not belong here.” But his words this time sound less certain. Rey shoots a look at Finn, noting how his surety has waned since witnessing Ben’s refusal to defend himself and his consideration of Rey.

_I can use that._

“Prince Finn, do you see how thoughtful this man is? How he means neither of us any harm? He will let you kill him because, after his life of isolation and misery, he thinks death is all he deserves.” Rey wipes impatiently at her tears, moving toward Finn to pour whatever she has left into the next words. “I came here to free him, to reign destruction down on everything I have known my whole life. Now, I want to leave here with him, in search of a better life. Do you not see the miracle of that?” She wills him to remember his innate compassion.

Finn pauses, brow furrowed and eyes boring into hers. “I cannot begin to comprehend what has transpired between the you here. Nor do I think I wish to. But if what you say is true, perhaps killing him is neither necessary nor just.” Finn inhales deeply, sword falling to his side. 

Rey doesn’t dare breathe, not sure if she heard him right. Finn looks at Ben, who stands immobile. “Can you assure me that you will never harm anyone? That if I allow you to leave this place, you will cease to be a source of violence and fear?”

Ben swallows. The morning light casts his face in half-glow, half-shadow. “I cannot assure you of what will come to pass. But I can say honestly that I have dedicated my life to avoiding violence and death at my hands. And I will continue to commit myself to this for all of my remaining days.”

His voice cuts the air, steely and resolute. Rey inhales deeply, in awe of him and what he stands for, especially after all he has endured. She straightens. _I too will craft a life unlike what I had before. One beyond the pursuit of power. One that Ben will be part of._

The words invite a transformation, a chance to finally emerge from her chrysalis of anger and pride. She knows there will be moments where she slips into old habits. Nevertheless, it is an energizing conviction that now guides her forward. _With Ben by my side._

Ben looks to Rey, holding her gaze with fondness and clarity. He _sees_ her, with all of her resentment, jealousy, greed, and ambition. He sees her in transition, releasing her grip on a destructive past in favor of a new future.

His forehead dips ever so slightly in recognition and acceptance. _Ben embraces all of this. He envelopes me in my messy entirety. And I him._ Rey lets a foreign kind of smile dance across her face, timid and sincere.

Silently, Finn watches their exchange. She can tell he is agitated. But he doesn’t raise his sword.

“Alright, I will let you go. I can accept that I had been lead here out of false pretenses, that the Minotaur was a monster who needed to be slain. I see that is inaccurate, and it would bring dishonor to kill you, knowing this truth.” His whole body looks rigid with the proclamation but he seems to have made up his mind.

Rey can’t believe it for a moment. Then the air itself shifts and she sprints toward Ben, who wears a dazed grin. His arms open automatically, pulling her into him. In a rush of movement, se is up in the air, feet dangling a foot above the ground. Laughter escapes her, bouyant and heady.

“Ben,” Rey murmurs into his neck. He squeezes her harder, fingers wrapped around her ribcage. She burns at the touch.

Finn clears his throat clears, startling them, and at once Ben lowers Rey to the ground. His cheeks are swathed in pink to match the morning clouds. She pictures a similar shade dusting her own.

“You must go before I change my mind. And before all of Knossos awakens. It would be unfortunate if the princess were seen running away with the Minotaur.” Though Finn says it with good intentions, Rey dismisses the notion.

“I do not care who sees,” she responds. “Only that no one harms him.” Ben gives her an incredulous look stitched with awe. She suspends their gaze to level hers at Finn. “Thank you, Prince Finn. You are more deserving of a royal title than anyone I have ever known. We will never forget this act of generosity and compassion.”

For a disconcerting moment, she almost hears the Queen’s voice speaking through her, guiding the words out of her mouth across the expanse. Finn presses his lips together, unable to speak. He bows at her, inclines his head toward Ben, and dashes away.

Rey turns to Ben. “Are you ready to leave the labyrinth?”

He looks too overcome to say anything, so he merely nods.

They take off running, hand in hand.  
  


* * *

  
Despite her lack of sleep, Rey runs faster than she thought possible. Ben is beside her, slowing his pace. _If only I had longer legs._ She grits her teeth and keeps going, allowing her adrenaline to pump energy into her tired, quaking muscles.

They hear the sounds of Knossos, loud and routine. She’s not sure what will happen when the villagers see them. Ben glances at her.

“Where will we go?” He doesn’t sound winded in the least. 

She curses him jovially and huffs a response. “I presume you never learned how to swim?”

“Never had the pleasure,” he replies wryly.

“Then we must use a boat. Cross the ocean. Go somewhere no one will find us.” Each word comes out clipped, in sync with her running. “We build a life. Together.”

They round another corner and come to an abrupt halt. The opening of the labyrinth stands before them. Ben takes several nervous breaths.

“Are you alright?” She comes close to him, laying her hands on his chest. He looks down at her and she knows in that moment, she will never feel alone again.

“I cannot fully explain how alright I am. I never dreamed I would be so… alright.” He blushes, exasperated with his struggle to communicate. 

The facade of the bull long since faded away. She sees only him. And a brazen impulse takes over.

Rey lurches to her tiptoes. His breath hitches in surprise. Then she presses her lips to his. 

She feels his lips respond to hers slowly at first. But soon his hands are on her back, clutching tight and lacing through her hair. He pulls her closer, _closer,_ until she’s sure he has subsumed her. She relishes the rush of it, the internal exultation that overwhelms her. 

At last she pulls back to breathe. Ben eyes crinkle as he smiles down at her. A tiny sound escapes him that she considers calling a chuckle.

“More of that later,” Rey says in a tone of voice she has never used before. He looks abashed, disbelieving, and eager. Without further delay she pulls him into the world he was never supposed to inhabit.

They tear through the last of the white corridors and into the streets beyond. A chorus of rippling shrieks engulfs them immediately. But they barrel through undeterred. Crowds part automatically, bodies scrabbling to dodge the perceived peril.

“We head to the docks. The King prepared a ship to include in my dowry. I do not think he will miss it.” She’s read descriptions of characters in books _smirking_ before, and in this moment, she thinks that’s precisely what her face is doing.

They keep running while Ben frantically looks left and right at the town he’s listened to but never seen. More people scream, but no one dares stand in their path. _No one in Knossos is that brave. Or that foolish._

They keep up their pace, though Rey will later question how. The voices fade as they reach the outskirts of the city and for the first time in her life, she rejoices at the sight of the ocean. The tranquil waters beckon them.

It takes only a split second to identify the ship in question; its mast is tall, curving prow decorated intricately, sails flapping in the gentle wind. She’s sure there has never been a more exquisite vessel.

Unable to speak, she points at it. Ben gestures his understanding, then sweeps her into his arms and carries her to the ship without faltering. She squeaks in surprise, then wraps her arms around his neck. 

The last stretch is exhilarating. Above them skip a plethora of white clouds on a journey west. Translucent water reflects a dazzle of sparkles, tiny points of flickering light. _I have never noticed how lovely the world is._

She laughs as he releases her onto the waxed planks of the ship.

Only then do they notice someone is already aboard.

“Princess! What are you--”

The man stops talking, a delayed acknowledgment of Ben turning his face purple.

“Uhh--”

Rey interrupts. “Can you sail this ship? You may have it once you get us to a safe destination far away. I can assure you no harm will befall you, and the ship should be a fair reimbursement for your trouble.”

The man looks between the two of them, shocked into silence. After a long moment he shakes his head in quick, stilted affirmation of the bargain.

“Good. What is your name?”

“Mitaka, Princess.” He stutters slightly from the sheer absurdity of the situation. She gives him a forgiving smile.

“Thank you, Mitaka. We need to make haste from here. I fear the King will not be happy with Ben’s survival.”

Mitaka casts a mystified look all around, like throwing a net to sea with the hope of catching some explanation in the process. When he receives none, he snaps into action.

Ben stayed farther away, with the intention of putting Mitaka at ease. Rey walks to him triumphantly. “We are on our way.” She wraps her fingers around his and leads him to the large room, typically used as the captain’s quarters, but commandeered for other matters now.

“Are you sure about this? Leaving everything behind?” Ben asks, uncertainty rearing its head once more.

Rey kisses him deeply. _He tastes like sunrise. He feels like home._

“Ben,” Rey whispers. She feels a thrill when he shivers. “I am leaving nothing and have found _everything._ ” 

He clasps her upper arms and kisses her again. “I never imagined…” Ben shakes his head. “How can I deserve you? Deserve _this_?”

Rey senses a sting of tears but blinks them away. “You deserve this and more.”

“And you do not mind my form? This wretched face?”

She brings her fingertips up, charting the ridge of his brow, plane of his jaw. “Nothing about you is wretched, Ben. I love you.”

Her tears seemingly transferred to his eyes. The moisture highlights the range of color in his irises, greens and golds and browns. _I will spend the rest of my days looking into these eyes._ Happiness flutters through her.

“Love...” he mutters distantly. “You love me?”

She laughs kindly. “How can you question it?”

“I have never been loved.” The statement leaves him stricken.

“Neither have I, not as I am. And now we find a new future, filled with all the adoration we have lacked. As one.” 

The ship, propelled by an avid wind, departs the dock.

“Shall we find a place to conquer?” Rey asks in jest.

“I’d rather not,” he says with a partial grin. He swoops close to her. “I love you more than the stars love to shine,” Ben whispers into the curve of her ear. She reels from the sentiment.

“I love you more than the gods love to meddle.”

He laughs, light and windswept, and she can’t help but join him. Their joy fills the sails and laps at the waves. 

Then the currents ferry them to a distant place, somewhere mortal and sublime.

**Author's Note:**

> ✨Thank you for reading ✨ 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://briaeveridian.tumblr.com/) where my SW obsession lives aggressively.


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